


Hearts A Mess

by skyfullofsong (aionimica)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light D/s undertones, Praise Kink, Redeemed Ben Solo, Smut as Character Work, because i am an angst monger and i can't help myself, soft sub kylo, this is the smuttiest thing i've written bare with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aionimica/pseuds/skyfullofsong
Summary: Good is subjective.Ben knew he was good, once upon a time. He tried to be good for his parents, for his uncle, for the people that crossed his life that he might have once called friends. There were moments, single places where he was good in their eyes, because whatever darkness called to him and poisoned those depths of his heart.





	Hearts A Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/gifts).



> from a prompt meme by tumblr user spacedarcy: "have you been good?"
> 
> \---
> 
> i have created an ao3 pseud and tumblr for where I can practice writing the shenanigans and get more comfortable writing smut. feel free to check out my tumblr @darthprettyeyes. 
> 
> title from "Hearts a Mess" by Gotye

* * *

 

 

“Have you been good?”

Ben leans back as Rey trails her hands down his arms before interlacing her fingers with his. Her lips press against his, so soft and sweet as her teeth nip her name against him; her tongue tasting of him as he stills beneath her and his mind wonders.

Good is subjective. 

Ben knew he was good, once upon a time. He tried to be good for his parents, for his uncle, for the people that crossed his life that he might have once called friends. There were moments, single places where he was good in their eyes, because whatever darkness called to him and poisoned those depths of his heart. 

He was good in Snoke’s eyes from time to time. Ben sought that praise, craved it, accosted for those moments where he would be blessed with the phrase  _ worthy apprentice _ . It was a balm to a soul that was broken from being good; where goodness was left so far back it was no longer attainable. 

Goodness was a thing Ben left behind and Kylo shunned. Goodness was a thing he wasn’t worthy to dream of. Goodness was to die. And Ben didn’t want to die.

But then came Rey. And she looked into his soul and saw something close enough to not darkness to resemble something good. And she went after it and went after him. And eventually she caught him and with her hands around his, she refused to let him go, even though the word good meant nothing to him. Until now.

Now, laying on her bed with nothing but a sheet around them, Ben let himself go as Rey dangled the word in front of him. 

“Have you been good, Ben?”

He looks at her with glazed eyes, roving across her. She sits next to him, bare of anything, the sheet pooling in her lap. She takes a breast in her hand and fondles it as she leans forward, bracing herself above him.

His throat was dry as he tries to respond. “Maybe?”

“Hmm?” she asks, holding herself just out of reach. Her hands trail back up to his and lock them in place above his head. 

“Yes,” he says and she smiles and takes his lips in hers. 

She tastes of summer and sun and sweet fresh rain -- of things Ben denied himself of for so long; of everything he wanted and nothing. Her lips are soft and swift, trading gentle suckling with sharp nips and a soothing tongue. She pulls away and he leans forward to find her breast and takes it in, suckling softly at first and then more urgently at her urging. His teeth graze along her nipple and her gasp is pure delight. He sucks against it, calming it with his tongue before taking it gently in his teeth again.

“Yes,” she murmurs at first and then moans, leaning into his mouth, pressing more of herself to him. Her hands leave his and reach down to between her thighs, and she gasps at her own touch, leaning into him and his hands. 

“You feel so good for me,” she says as she straddles him, her hips twisting over his in an erratic rhythm. He swells and hardens even more beneath her as she rubs herself against his length. Her breath hitches and her pace quickens as her slick wets between them and the heat builds up again. 

And then she stops. Her eyes meet his and that smile, that wicked, perfect smile of hers grows and her hair falls into her face as she leans off of him and takes his lips again. 

“Please,” he says softly, so softly at first. A prayer, a plea, anything for her, anything she wants. “Please…”

“What do you want?” she asks teasingly, her lips nibbling along his jaw.

“You,” he says and he can’t mean anything but the truth of it all.

“Then be good for me,” she says. And she leans back and takes him in with one adjustment of her hips and a grasp her hand. 

And then there is nothing but Rey and the tightness of her as she sets the pace, rocking into him, his hips thrusting in response.

_ Let me be good _ , he wonders to himself.  _ Let me be good _ , he craves as she places that seed in his soul.  _ Let me be good _ , he yearns as she comes forward and captures his lips and his hands grip her hips. 

Her fingers stroke her core and her breath hitches and her voice raises and oh, how he loves that part, where she loses herself in touch and him and them. And then it stops again and his breath startles and that whimper comes again as Rey gasps against his lips, her free hand holding his hands firm above his head.

“Don’t move,” she says with a nip to his ear and a kiss on his chest, her hands trailing wakes where her kisses once were. And he doesn’t. He won’t, not for her, not when she wants him like this:  _ be good for me _ , she says and he wants.

There is still goodness in him, someone once said long ago. But was it goodness in their eyes that defined what it was to him. But Rey was different. Rey pulled the goodness from him. She pulls it with her hands as she lifts from his hips and palms his cock, sending stars to his eyes and a moan from his throat. 

She looks at him then, as his hands clench above his head and his eyes open at her voice, blurry and aching, his breath caught in his throat as it burns achingly below. Her touch is good, her lips are good, her hands are good,  _ she _ is good and he is--

“Will you be good for me, Ben?” she asks, her voice thick.

“Yes,” he gasps.

She lets him go and the whine that comes from him is so far from what he would think he was capable of. But he would beg for her, do what she asks, because she’s Rey and she’s good and she asks the same of him.

When she straddled him again and took him in again, he loses himself to her. He gives himself willingly as she leans back and into his thrusts. He watches through half-seeing eyes as her hands take herself, bracing herself against one of his knees. Her slickness coats him, sliding down from her thighs, slicking that space between them, the noise of their skin bordering obscene, but so good to his ears.

He feels her as she takes him deeper, adjusting the angle and arching back, the sounds from her coming low and slow and blossoming with want.

“You’re so good to me,” she manages before gasping for breath. He echoes her and shifts just so to take her harder, to reach her harder, to hit that spot she seems to crave deep inside as her nails dig into the back of his thighs and pull him closer, closer,  _ faster, faster-- _

“Ben,” she cries, his name pulling from her lips as she moans with each thrust of his hips. “You’re… so good… You feel… so good…”

And he would be good for her, here in their bed and there in their world and the galaxies beyond. All she had to do was ask and he’d bend all his power to her will. He’d take what he had, all the parts of him that shunned light and craved the shadow and bathe them in her might because she asked. Because she was good and she wanted that of him as well.

“Yes, yes yes,” she pants as she pulls herself deeper and takes him in further. “Be good for me.”

He whimpers at her voice, the sound escaping from his throat and Rey smiles and he gasps and falls into her voice again. 

She increases their pace and he is all too eager to oblige, her back arching away from him, her breasts bouncing in time with them. Her mouth hangs open, her eyes open enough to watch him as she comes, her core clenching around him. Her moan reaches his ears, but he is gone as her hands keep him going, her fingers fluttering around his base, stroking him as she strokes herself to another rise.

And then he hears her voice, higher and higher as she reaches that spot again and he holds on for her because she asks for him to be good and for her,  _ anything-- _

_ Be good and come for me, Ben _ , she says through the Force, through that spot in their minds where its all but instinct and the last part of themselves.

And he comes at her voice, at her name; for her still bucking against his hips, and the praise on her lips that hung open with pleasure. It echoes in the Force as he falls to her praise, as he opens to what she has and gives her all he has left. It’s an empty, simple white space where he reaches for her, that white hot heat firing across all his neurons, until his eyes roll back in his head and his heart beats in time with her goods,  _ so good, so good _ .  _ It feels so good _ .

The fall together, Rey splaying across his chest, her fingers in her hair, his arm across her waist. Here, they are nothing but the Force, two individuals with nothing else holding them apart but the flesh and bone of them. In the Force, they are one. 

And in the Force, Rey whispers to him as she kisses his lips and pulls him down and lifts him up.  _ Force, you’re so good to me, _ she says and it echoes between them, a balm to a soul that craves it so.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
